


Posh and Ginger

by LaurytheLatrator



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Drinking, Dubious Infidelity, F/F, F/M, Post S3 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 14:40:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7056643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaurytheLatrator/pseuds/LaurytheLatrator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Gina falls in love with her best friend's girl after a few drinks too many.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Posh and Ginger

Jake and Gina used to be two halves of one, sort-of-functional human. They were more alike than either would usually admit. When Gina had whispered during a sleepover that she liked Posh Spice as much as Justin Timberlake, Jake had told her he had a crush on both Jenny Gildenhorn and Nick Rushland and couldn’t decide who he wanted to kiss more. From then on they had an understanding, and they helped each other cheat at spin the bottle, the only socially acceptable reason to kiss your own gender at their age. When they graduated high school they graduated to wingman duties at bars or coffee shops.

Jake and Gina got each other.

This is how it all went wrong.

 

* * *

 

Gina holds Amy’s hair in her fist as the girl hurls into the beach house toilet, and counts the fake flowers in the fake planter. A neat dozen, and Amy’s flushing and resting her cheek on the porcelain.

“Doing, alright, hun?” Gina asks with the same careful disinterest she’d been maintaining all evening. She is actually concerned; Amy’s muscular but petite. Her first aid class hadn’t been clear on whether that affected alcohol poisoning.

Amy mutters something into her new friend Mr. Toilet, and sits up at last. “I’m good. Puking is good.”

She’s sweaty and her breath reeks and there’s a bit of dribble on the corner of her mouth. Gina gets her standing by the sink and she washes up and spits with the mouthwash in the medicine cabinet. When she faces Gina again, there’s a bit of the old Santiago poise. Her glassy eyes and crooked smile tell a different story.

“You’re such a good friend,” Amy says sweetly, reaching up to pet Gina’s hair. “I never knew that before.”

Gina shrugs. “Don’t go spreading it around. No joke. I’ve got to compete with Rosa in the boss ass bitch category, and this could seriously take me down to her level.”

“You’re the ass—boss—I mean…” She shakes her head and Gina can’t help chuckling at her.

“I geddit, girl, relax.”

Amy smiles, blindly and blindingly. “Good.” Then she does the unexpected. Santiago leans in and smushes her lips into Gina’s, opening and maneuvering them until they at least resemble a kiss, so much as a kiss can be one-sided. For her part Gina plays a statue, a shocked, horny, definitely-not-going-to-ruin-the-moment-by-moving statue, and Amy’s medusa. She smells so clean. Minty fresh. Amy’s hand is still in her hair, and it’s twirling, tangling, gripping. Gina has to breathe out, and she does so slowly, shakily, through her nose. Amy makes a soft sound.

As suddenly as it began, it’s over. Amy is resting her head on Gina’s shoulder, and she’s blinking at the dozen fake flowers in the fake planter and wondering where the world went wrong. Had puking circled sad six-drink Amy back to flirty four-drink Amy? Was this just something she did, kiss girls at parties, like any number of chicks Gina had known?

“Can I go in the hot tub again?” Amy mumbles into her shirt.

Gina breathes out and slowly rubs her back. The drunk girl makes another soft sound, so like before, and Gina knows she won’t forget this, no matter how hard she’ll try. “No, babe, you’re gonna take a little nap. Momma Gina’s gonna look after you. Okay?”

A whisper of a sigh against her neck: “‘ _Kay_.”

 

* * *

 

No, Gina isn’t successful at forgetting Santiago’s kiss. But the detective doesn’t seem to have a clue anything went down, so she isn’t about to bring it up. Not even blackmail is worth opening that Pandora’s box.

Because she honestly hadn’t thought Santiago was her type: so uptight, so straight edge, and the pony-tails were way too much. She dressed like Boyle for god’s sake, though admittedly Gina had been briefly attracted to him too. Still, there were so many reasons Santiago and Linetti were not compatible.

And yet.

One bottle of wine, _each_ , four mini-bottles of gin from the bodega guy, and a shared bag of Doritos in the park lead to Amy pressed up against Gina, their lips moving in tandem this time. What started it? Looking back Gina will concede it was her fault for offering to suck the Dorito residue from her fingers. Anyone would be turned on by that, Gina had flawless technique.

“Hey,” Gina thinks to pull back and ask, “Are you even gay?”

It’s not the sort of question that should make Amy shrug, but it does. “Maybe? A little bit? Why?”

“Like…” Gina drawls as she puzzles through it, “Only when you drink?”

“No, I only _do_ _something_ about it when I’m drink— _drunk_.”

Gina isn’t clear headed enough to get this. Isn’t Amy all about labels? She’s got a freaking label maker with a neat ‘ _LABEL MAKER_ ’ label on it. “So are you bi?”

Amy huffs, and Gina realizes it’s against her collar bone. When did she get down there? “Do you really wanna talk right now?”

Wisely, Gina shakes her head. No, the things Gina wants to do shouldn’t happen on a park bench at Ass o’Clock in the morning. At least not when you’re both past your mid twenties. And not homeless. Solution: “Wanna go to my place?”

“Do you have more booze?”

“Duh.”

“Let’s get moving.”

 

* * *

 

They didn’t sleep together. Gina passed out after doing shots, and when she woke up her skull was beating her brain to death and Santiago was gone. By the time she pulled herself together and made it to the station, she knew how it was going to play out. She responded appropriately when Amy came in talking about their wild night. Maybe she smiled a secret smile to herself, but she didn’t say anything.

Gina was sunk, well and truly.

Of course, it wasn’t long after realizing this that the squad discovered Amy and Jake had hooked up, and arguably more importantly killed their new Captain.

Jake and Gina were always more alike than they gave each other credit for.

She wasn’t about to shank her bff in the back over a girl, not even one like Amy. So Gina did the noble thing and sucked it up. What did it matter if she’d fallen for the adorable, nerdy, brave, talented Amy Santiago? They’d only shared a few kisses, only when they’d been drunk, and Amy wasn’t even officially into women. It was nothing to ruin Jake’s happiness over. And they were, happy that is. Everyone could see it.

Damn Amy if she didn’t get even more beautiful when she was in love.

Gina had the feeling she didn’t look that way at all. If anyone had cared to look, they’d see a sad sack, pining away, being less than fabulous. No one knew.

Until Jake and Captain Holt had to get bundled off to witness protection that is. That sure was a game changer.

 

* * *

 

“I can’t stay in his apartment,” Amy confesses to her one night over red wine. They’re in Gina’s apartment. She’d done her best to be fancy and set out cheese to go with the wine, but Amy is just bypassing it to get to her third glass.

This is Gina’s guilty pleasure: the nights Amy comes over because she’s missing Jake. They skirt the edge of drunk as they talk about him, wondering where he is, what he’s doing. Obviously nothing sleazy ever happens.

“We were supposed to move in together,” Amy goes on, and Gina nods, because she’s heard it before, multiple times, “But it feels so wrong without him there. I haven’t moved anything in. It’s…” She shudders and drains the cabernet. “It’s like he died and it’s his shrine.”

Gina refills her glass smoothly. “Honey, you know he’s out there. Even if the Feds aren’t worth their badges in gold, Holt’s with him, so he’s safe.” For some reason this makes Amy quiet, and Gina takes the opportunity to nibble her cheese. She didn’t get goat’s cheese for nothing.

It’s a shock when Amy does whisper, “We never talked about it, before he left. Am I supposed to wait for him? Is he waiting for me?”

“Jake’s in love with you,” Gina tells her. It doesn’t hurt. It’s the truth. She may as well be saying ‘water is wet’ or ‘Yonce is bae’.

What Amy says will always hurt, though. “And I love him, _so much_. Obviously. That’s not the point.” She brushes her hair out of her face. The girl looks lost. “I had a plan. I _know_ , Jake was supposed to be an end to the plan, but really he was more of a detour. The milestones are the same: move in, make sergeant, get married, lieutenant, first child, captain, take a trip to France, second child—“

“Yadda, yadda, yadda, I geddit,” Gina interrupts, “You’ve got happily ever after down to a science. Package it and make a million, ‘Santiago’s Secret’ or whatever.”

“That’s the thing!” Amy exclaims. “I’m not happy! I don’t know if we’ll ever get there, and…” There’s guilt seeping onto Amy’s adorably earnest face. How is this woman a cop? She’s got no poker face. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, since he’s been gone. About us, him and me, what I want…”

She’s shifty, it’s intriguing. Gina hasn’t looked away from her much, so she catches the furtive glances Amy shoots her way every few minutes. The question rolls off her tongue before she can double think it. “What do you want?” A glance, a second, and then Amy holds her gaze with steely determination. There’s anxiety and anticipation skittering up her spine. Not much catches Gina off guard.

“I know I don’t want to wait to be happy,” Amy says, and there isn’t a drop of alcohol in her voice. “I think I’ve finally got to the point where I can throw away the plan. It hasn’t done me any good yet, just distracts me from what’s in front of my eyes.”

Gina giggles. It’s involuntary, nervous. “Plans are overrated, I’ve always said it. Who wants to go to France anyway? Thumbs down emoji fo’ sho’.”

“Do you remember what I told you that night we got way too drunk?” Amy asks, but she may as well have punched her in the solar plexus. There’s no air left as Gina huffs a laugh. There can’t be a right answer to this question.

She goes for the joke instead. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“You asked if I was gay a second after I got my tongue out of your mouth,” Amy says without breaking eye contact. Was there a seminar for that? There’s no way Gina can respond, so Amy goes on. “I told you I only do something about it when I’ve been drinking. It’s how I can forget—“ Frustrated, she cut herself off and started again. “I was the only girl in my family, so I grew up with expectations. It’s why I made my plan like I did. Liking women shouldn’t have factored in. It didn’t!—until you and I—“

“Santiago,” Her honor forces her to break in, holding up her hands, “Sweet child, think about what you’re doing.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing? Five nights out of seven I’m spending time with you trying to avoid Jake’s empty apartment. Does that sound normal to you?”

Gina sticks to her guns. “You said it yourself not five minutes ago: _you_ _love_ _Jake_.”

Big brown eyes should be outlawed, Gina thinks as Amy gazes at her with all their power. “Yeah, I love him,” She explains softly, “But along the way I fell in love with you.”

No one could be strong enough to deny Santiago when she’s speaking of love. Gina lunges over the table to kiss her, knocking over the half full wine bottle. It clatters to the floor and starts seeping red onto her carpet, but neither of them give a damn. Amy stands and moves around the table to straddle her, and of course they fit perfectly. She moans into Amy’s mouth and lets herself stop thinking about anything except tonight.

So it’s much later when Amy’s hair is splayed all over her silk pillow and Gina’s stroking her fingers down her freckled arm that she murmurs, “Jake’s going to come back eventually.” Half asleep, Amy nuzzles her face into the pillow case. She sighs gently, blinking her eyes open, and pins Gina with her gaze.

“We can deal with it when it’s time. For now, I want to focus on being with you, %100.”

It’s not a permanent fix, but it’s more than Gina could’ve hoped for. She smiles down at her new lover. “100 _emoji_ , girl, geddit right. No one uses percent anymore.”

Amy, the dork, lifts her head hopefully. “Girl kissing girl emoji?”

Gina does just that.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I really like this couple, and I don't know why I seem to be the only one??? You can find my fanvideos and general flailing about them on my tumblr [here](http://laurythelatrator.tumblr.com/tagged/Amy-x-Gina).


End file.
